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Hi, I'm Crazy; How Are You?
Feb. 23rd, 2005 01:07 pmAquarius: The fundamental question now is "What is real?" Circumstances have grown unmanageable, and it's impossible to figure out where to put your attention. It's not about being incapable. Simply put, this is a very unstable situation and it's difficult to act with clarity. Even if you are tempted, don't make impulsive decisions now. Wait, if you can, until next week when the waters calm down.
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...~slow exhale...quiet smile~
Monday morning, when I got to Mel's from Elise's (thank you again for having me over; we look forward to returning the favor next week--Adam's planning chicken stew if you guys will find the movie. Deal?), I was surprised to find her brother Ed still awake and brighteyed. I seriously checked my clock to make sure it was midnight:30 and not noon, he was so awake. Which tells you how awake I was.
Still, one can't just walk into an apartment to which one has only tenuous claim and ignore the other occupants, no matter that they're squatters too. So I paid my respects to the Cat--who generously bestowed upon me a mouthful of hair--and exchanged pleasantries with Ed. A half-hour later, pleasantries having become anecdotes, I was awake again.
There'd been a storm waiting since about midway through Masked and Annonymous (I felt I'd've understood it better with about a month of CNN and a: more alcohol, b: more pot, and/or c: *significantly* less sleep under my belt. As it was, it was a bit like a vivid dream--it *should've* made sense to me, but...); when it finally broke, the thunder shook the apartment. Ed's ears went up like Pavlov's dogs at the bell. "That means there'll be lightning," he said, probably mostly to himself; the next thing I knew, we were out on her wee little porch staring at the curtains of water sheeting from the strobing sky. Barefoot and coatless in the middle of the night in the middle of February, watching a storm. And the thunder roared.
I leaned out over the railing and let the water from the edges of the roofs above me pour down my face. If you're going to cry, Jess, do it now. Now no one will be able to tell but you, and you get it out of your system and go on with life, I thought. And I let down the walls that such things usually wait behind, exhaled, opened myself up to the opportunity.
Wound up giggling. Laughing like a child.
Barefoot and coatless in the pouring rain, in the middle of the night, in the middle of February.
Laughing.
Ed probably thought I was a bit cracked. Honestly, I'm not sure I'm not. But it's getting closer to alright every day. If I let it. The trick is not stripping the screw...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finished Issola this morning.
Congratulations, gentlemen--you've officially made a Brust fan.
Now on to the rest of the stack, and reminding myself who has what of this lot, and to whom to return it when they're done.
Maybe I could get a side gig at a library...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...~slow exhale...quiet smile~
Monday morning, when I got to Mel's from Elise's (thank you again for having me over; we look forward to returning the favor next week--Adam's planning chicken stew if you guys will find the movie. Deal?), I was surprised to find her brother Ed still awake and brighteyed. I seriously checked my clock to make sure it was midnight:30 and not noon, he was so awake. Which tells you how awake I was.
Still, one can't just walk into an apartment to which one has only tenuous claim and ignore the other occupants, no matter that they're squatters too. So I paid my respects to the Cat--who generously bestowed upon me a mouthful of hair--and exchanged pleasantries with Ed. A half-hour later, pleasantries having become anecdotes, I was awake again.
There'd been a storm waiting since about midway through Masked and Annonymous (I felt I'd've understood it better with about a month of CNN and a: more alcohol, b: more pot, and/or c: *significantly* less sleep under my belt. As it was, it was a bit like a vivid dream--it *should've* made sense to me, but...); when it finally broke, the thunder shook the apartment. Ed's ears went up like Pavlov's dogs at the bell. "That means there'll be lightning," he said, probably mostly to himself; the next thing I knew, we were out on her wee little porch staring at the curtains of water sheeting from the strobing sky. Barefoot and coatless in the middle of the night in the middle of February, watching a storm. And the thunder roared.
I leaned out over the railing and let the water from the edges of the roofs above me pour down my face. If you're going to cry, Jess, do it now. Now no one will be able to tell but you, and you get it out of your system and go on with life, I thought. And I let down the walls that such things usually wait behind, exhaled, opened myself up to the opportunity.
Wound up giggling. Laughing like a child.
Barefoot and coatless in the pouring rain, in the middle of the night, in the middle of February.
Laughing.
Ed probably thought I was a bit cracked. Honestly, I'm not sure I'm not. But it's getting closer to alright every day. If I let it. The trick is not stripping the screw...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finished Issola this morning.
Congratulations, gentlemen--you've officially made a Brust fan.
Now on to the rest of the stack, and reminding myself who has what of this lot, and to whom to return it when they're done.
Maybe I could get a side gig at a library...
